Seeking Warmth
by Towfu San
Summary: Her parents are dead. Her sister abandoned her for a smelly iceman. Elsa seeks warmth and connection, but if there is no normal way to obtain it, there are other ways to get what she wants. Elsa/Random male. Smut with no plot whatsoever.


Rules and regulations were a part of Elsa as much as the ornate crown sitting pretty atop her head. From childhood, she was royalty first, person second. Her family had been the only ones who cared about the lonely, touch starved girl beneath the layers and layers of etiquette lessons. In the rare times they spent together, she could act her namesake and nothing else.

But to her misfortune, their relationship had been increasingly tainted by her growing ice powers. Her parents had drifted away, an agonizing process that was forcefully put to an end when she received news of their tragic passing. Two years after that, Anna became estranged, running off with a iceman she'd met during Elsa's coronation.

Elsa had no one left. She was isolated in both her private and public life without hope of escape in the foreseeable future, or perhaps until it was her turn to shuffle off the mortal coil.

Elsa took up hobbies to distract herself, and what worked more than knitting and horse-riding and reading was roaming the halls at night. She wandered through the castle like a ghost, donned only in her nightgown, seeking non-existent warmth in plush carpets and styled drapes, walking in circles until dawn peeked over the horizon. She slept just enough to keep her wits about her, and so Arendelle continued to stand.

Her first year as Queen had been spent this way. But this year – the second year into her lonely reign – Elsa was determined to make things different. If it was warmth she sought, there would be other ways to obtain it.

* * *

"Your majesty, this is no laughing matter." The head of the royal guards held the letter in his hands. His shoulders trembled with fury. "I know you treasure your privacy, but for something of this nature to reach your study… I'm afraid we might be dealing with someone highly skilled."

"I understand." Elsa set down her cutlery. "What do you propose?"

"Rotating shifts. We will spare no guards to patrol the castle for as long as it takes to catch this fiend." Though age was creeping up on the man, greying his moustache and wrinkling the lines around his mouth, the intensity of his eyes could not be replicated by even the most talented of cadets. "I will not allow your safety to be comprised."

Elsa sighed. "That will certainly affect the kingdom's security. I cannot allow it. For all we know, whomever sent this might have other matters in mind. If they wanted my life, I highly doubt they would have declared their intentions. I'm worried they will use the opportunity of lax security to take action against the citizens."

"I see…" His eyes widened and he nodded solemnly. "That is something I had not taken into consideration."

Elsa continued, "However, I agree it might be necessary to set up some semblance of security." She thought a little further and decided. "Your idea of a patrol still holds merit. Instead of deploying squads, which would be a waste of manpower, it would be simpler to assign two guards per rotation. Choose one of great skill and another with less experience. The areas near my personal quarters shall be delegated to the first, while less prioritised areas will be handed to the latter."

He nodded. It was not the best of solutions, but it would do until they ascertained the true purpose of the letter. "Arendelle is lucky to be blessed with your wisdom, your majesty."

Elsa thanked him. He bowed at his waist and left to return to his duties, not noticing the wry smile behind she hid behind her hand.

* * *

The moon was full. It glowed harshly from its perch in the sky, partially illuminating ceramic rooftops in housing districts.

Gregory moved away from the window and did one final adjustment of his starched collar. He glanced around the empty stretch of hallway in earnest. Not a soul was in sight, but he couldn't slack off. This was his long awaited chance to prove himself.

He couldn't suppressed the spring to his step as he walked.

What a lucky thing it was to be selected. Amongst the entire garrison, how many of them could claim to serve the Queen in such a straightforward, noble manner? This was his greatest honour, and with some luck, he would perhaps be able to lever himself to a higher position.

Gregory clenched his fist, still giddy with enthusiasm. Not even a fly would get past him tonight.

He marched past the empty guest rooms on the second lowest castle level. His path took him to the lower left wing of the castle, a route planned by his superiors. The place was musty, devoid of life. Gregory agreed that it would be prudent to check the area just in case.

This place didn't see much foot traffic, not since the Royal family had dwindled to just a single woman. Queen Elsa might hold the kingdom in the palm of her hand, but she had no one to share it with. Gregory found it utterly dreadful.

He grinned. If he'd been born a prince, no matter how far the country, he would have crossed every sea for the chance at winning Queen Elsa's hand. He hadn't seen her, not close up, but rumours of her being a glass-like beauty capable of toppling kingdoms ran rampant through the barracks.

In his book, any woman capable of running a kingdom singlehandedly should have an equally competent husband to match. He was never one to toot his own horn, but Gregory was confident in his physical skills and was sure he could match wits with his Queen should he have the chance.

Alas, he was born a castle guard's son, and his wife had been the only daughter a baker. Still, Gregory was not averse to daydreams.

"…_wonderful."_

Gregory whipped around. His breath quickened. He'd heard something, and it hadn't been just a sigh of the wind. He brandished his spear. His body tensed and readied itself for an attack.

Gregory's frown deepened. The air was still, and the only sound he could hear was the chirp of crickets. He continued to keep his ears peeled. His hearing hadn't failed him before and it would be arrogant to dismiss what he heard as imagination.

"Show yourself," he ordered.

He stared down hallway he'd come from, straining his ears in hopes to catch the mysterious sound. Minutes of waiting and still, he heard nothing.

"Strange. I definitely heard…" Gregory shook his head. "I need to report this."

A flutter of white from the corner of his eye.

Gregory spun on his heel, lunging forward with his spear. He thrust his weapon at the intruder. Blood roared in his ears, and he opened his mouth to release a battle-cry.

The sound was lodged throat as he was treated to an eyeful of his would be assailant. She was lithe and pale as a wisp, her sheer white gown exposing her plump breasts and washboard stomach. A thin eye mask obscured part of her face, and he struggled to recognize her.

His spear shot forward, straight at her bosom, and she made no attempt to dodge. Indeed, she didn't seem afraid of the attack and even spread her arms open to welcome him.

He hesitated – and it was for this reason alone his aim did not strike true. Instead of impaling her breast it dipped below the space of her armpits and sunk deep into the wall behind her. Gregory cursed. He'd gone and signed his own death warrant.

Before he could jerk his hand off the handle to tackle her, a rush of blistering cold stopped him in place.

Gregory's mind spun. His limbs. They had been frozen solid – encased in ice thicker than a man's neck. He tried to move his feet, only to realize his legs had become icy roots in the burgundy castle carpet. His arms were similarly bound, shackled together behind his back.

Gregory opened his mouth to yell. His captor was a step quicker. His cry rebounded noiselessly into the sheet of ice that formed over the lower half of his face.

The cold was biting. He didn't need to see himself to know his skin would be blistering red if he got out of this alive.

Gregory was trapped. And his lower body was feeling rather peculiar.

As Gregory tried to force his mind to calm, to steady the rapid thumping of his heart, he felt the sensation of a hand sliding over his groin. His neck, which had been thankfully left alone, allowed him to crane his head forward to see what she was doing.

His captor was fondling his testicles over his pants. He could feel her slender fingers, cold as freshly fallen snow, rubbing and pinching the soft body parts held in by his briefs.

She gave him a firm pinch. To Gregory's annoyance, his manhood twitched almost painfully, beginning to swell against her ghostly touch.

Gregory's mind spun, no outlet for his swirling thoughts. He had expected a knife to the throat, heart or other vital points, an instant gory death. Instead, this strange woman took after the prostitutes he would visit when he had money to spare.

Was she mad?

Gregory's face burned with a strange mix of anger and arousal as his belt was ripped off, followed by his pants being tugged down until they pooled near his frozen ankles. His briefs were the next to go. The cool night air made his cock twitch as it sprung free.

The woman ceased moving for a moment, staring. Then, she reached out to rest a smooth, supple fingertip on the tip of his cock. He jolted at her touch though he saw it coming.

Gregory gritted his teeth, and when he glared at her to convey his rebelliousness, she stared back without a hint of emotion. Clad entirely in white, platinum blond hair trailing freely down her back, Gregory could have mistaken her for an ice sculpture or winter nymph.

Blood flowed into both his heads when she got on her knees. The view of her dainty collarbones and cleavage made his head spin, and he nearly fainted when he felt something wet run across the length of his cock.

His chest heaved. His organ twitched balefully at her teasing, sporadic touches. She did it again and again, over and over until his intention to hold out until help arrived dissolved completely.

He wanted more. _Needed_ more. The kingdom could burn as long as she continued to pleasure him. He wanted to feel her wet tongue lapping against his throbbing meat – swallow him so deeply until he could feel the back of her throat.

To sink his cock inside her and fill her womb with his hot seed.

The woman's mouth enveloped him whole. Gregory felt the ice over his mouth grow wet as he panted vigorously. He watched through lidded eyes as her head bobbed wildly. Her efforts were sloppy and unsure, but she sucked so passionately that Gregory would have grabbed the back of her head and further thrusted his hips if he were capable of movement.

His orgasm came faster than he'd intended, her amorous sucking too much to resist. He came with a harsh, gasping whine that would have woken the castle if he wasn't silenced.

The ice shackles suddenly exploded in a cloud of glittering crystals. He slumped against the castle wall, chest heaving. Seconds later, he took in raspy breaths through his mouth as his mouthguard disappeared in a similar manner. Patches of his skin were uncomfortably wet and his limbs had gone stiff with cold, but his lust continued to burn, fiery and bright.

The ice succubus looked upon him with the grace of a queen toward her subject.

"What will you do now?" she asked in a voice akin to a siren.

Gregory traced his eyes over her naked form, her sheer dress having melted from her body like his binds. Her pink nipples had stiffened into peaks, the cherry atop succulent mounds Gregory hesitated to call tits. They were too beautiful – fae-like and made for worship. Her thighs were slightly rounded with fat, but slimmed as they continued downward to form slender legs.

Her pink slip of womanhood shivered in the frigid air. His eyes followed a translucent droplet that oozed from it, curving a path down her pale skin.

Gregory leaped at her. His muscular arms seized her by the shoulders. He pinned her to the wallpapered castle wall and bent forward, grazing his teeth over the slope of her neck. He licked and sucked at her exposed skin, evoking teeth rattling groans from her. He moved his hands, one on her hips to steady her, while the other reached down to cup her soaking pussy.

He inserted a finger, thrusted it upwards in a number of quick movements. Deep inside, something gave way. Surprise welled up inside him, but it was quickly forgotten as she moaned under his touch and grinded into his hand. His finger continued to explore her womanhood, one becoming two until she was a writhing mess in his arms.

He was about to insert a third finger when she whispered, "I'd rather feel another part of you inside me."

Gregory removed his hand and answered by plunging his cock inside her. He buried his cock up to his shaft, his balls slapping against her wet flesh.

Their moans rang out in unison, hers pitched to near shrillness. He couldn't bother with the noise and began to thrust, lifting her off the ground and throwing her legs over his shoulders for better access.

Her pussy eased and tightened with each thrust. The impact of their flesh made soft slapping noises. He crimped his fingers on her hips as he tried to plunge his dick deeper into her nether regions, each thrust sending uncontrollable shivers rush through his body.

Consummating with his wife felt nothing like this. Here, Gregory's actions had no plan, each pump of his hips predicated on pure instinct. The pleasure she invoked with her body nothing like he'd ever felt, not with his wife nor the whores he lay with when he craved a more primal, dirty pleasure. She was uncharted land, and he plundered greedily.

The woman did not moan as he did, unrestrained and animalistic. Hers were soft and measured, as if she did not know quite how to react at the sheer pleasure she was drowning in. That sound made him move faster – he wanted to make this voluptuous siren go mad with pleasure.

He lost count of how many times his cock had rammed into her most sensitive of inner spots until she reached her orgasm with a loud, keening cry. He came inside her, thick ropes of seed filling her womb as her cries echoed through the lifeless hallway.

He pulled out, cock resting limp against his thigh as he let onto her feet. Her fingers curled against his broad chest as she caught her breath. Gregory resisted the urge to take them into his hands and kiss them.

And then fractals of tiny white crystals burst into the air, clouding his sight.

"What-!" Gregory's legs were once again frozen to the ground. Before he could curse her ambush, he felt a pair of lips against his left ear.

"I come here every night to seek warmth," she whispered.

He didn't have time to react. A final burst of glimmering ice crystals – and she was gone.

When Gregory blinked rapidly to clear his vision, he was the only soul in the empty hallway. His pants were at his ankles and his cock still dripped with remnants of her cum.

"What the hell just happened?" he said, flabbergasted.

* * *

From behind the secret wall mechanism, Elsa breathed a relieved sigh into the musty air. She'd done it. She had finally acted out her heart's desire. It was the closest she had come to another person in years, mentally and physically.

Smiling to herself, Elsa vowed to keep up the charade of a threat for as long as she could. If she got tired of the guard, whose name she couldn't quite recall, she could always ask for him to be replaced. No one would think anything strange of it.

Elsa thought she should have done this a long time ago. What use was family when she could obtain endless pleasure and warmth whenever she desired?

* * *

_AN: _

_This idea has been bouncing around in my head since I watched Frozen 2. I friggin love Elsa and Frozen 2. It should be a crime to make a fictional character so attractive. _


End file.
